


Distraction

by affiliation



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Established Relationship, Explicit Language, F/M, Love, One Shot, Post-Canon, Romance, Sexual Content, Third Year Tsukishima Kei, Third Year Yachi Hitoka
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:46:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27877821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/affiliation/pseuds/affiliation
Summary: Yachi gets far more than she bargained for when she follows Tsukishima to the storage room.
Relationships: Tsukishima Kei/Yachi Hitoka
Comments: 16
Kudos: 102





	Distraction

**Author's Note:**

> Ratings: Strong sexual references and strong coarse language.
> 
> I do not own any Haikyuu characters.

Third year is synonymous with the ever mounting pile of assessments and vigorous exam prepping. But for one person, said tasks make up only a small portion of her worries. Apprehension has a way of implanting itself in the most inconvenient of places, and today, on a chilling morning of winter, Yachi is fretting over a promotional poster.

Over the past two weeks, she has been gathering copious amounts of information pertaining to the volleyball club’s upcoming Winter Tournament. They made it. For three years in a row. And this time, they are hoping for Nationals.

Getting the exact advertisement in its correct format is what keeps her awake. She spends a substantial amount of time, often late into the night, editing the contents of the poster, until she falls asleep at the computer and is late for class the next day.

Today, she finally gets the poster to the way she envisioned. And when lunchtime arrives, she will post it to the school noticeboards.

But before she proceeds, there is one special person she wants to run the promotion by. A member of the volleyball team who also happens to be her significant other. He is in the class next door, and frankly, Yachi is happy with this arrangement. Sharing the same educational space with him will inevitably distract her - even when he is not talking.

For the third year in a row, he gets the seat by the windows on the far left of the class. It is always the same spot, give or take a seat.

When she searches for him during lunch, he is sitting at the desk with an unusually glazed expression. He does not notice her presence until she is standing before him and speaking his name.

“Tsukishima.”

She is still not accustomed to calling him by his first name.

Yet contrary to popular beliefs, Yachi and Tsukishima get along relatively well. Their personalities may be opposing, but there is a component of balance that gets their relationship working. And despite initial scepticism, the two have consistently shown an unexpected element of compatibility that gets their friends and family heightened with fascination.

“Hey,” he says.

“Sorry to intrude during your lunch break but I’m about to post these to the noticeboards. I’d like to know your thoughts,” she says uncertainly.

He takes the posters and reads with mild interest.

“Looks fine to me,” he answers vacantly.

But Yachi is unconvinced. Perhaps it is the anxiety speaking?

“Are you sure? I don’t need to change anything? How’s the font size? What about the background colour? What do you think of the words? Should I change the text? What about-“

He taps the poster on her head.

“It’s fine. You always do a good job with these,” Tsukishima interrupts.

He gives a resigned sigh, then smiles.

“Don’t undermine yourself,” he adds.

At his comment, she keeps the nervous shuffling restrained.

“Right. Then I will pin these to the noticeboards.”

Her tone is oddly triumphant with additional layers of hesitation.

When she takes the posters and manoeuvres to the exit, someone from behind is calling her name.

“Yachi!”

The tone is reminiscent of Hinata’s exuberant energy. She vaguely recognises the owner. Three times she has seen him this past week, twice within the confines of a classroom, and once on her way to the courtyards.

He is notably tall and undoubtedly handsome, but sends an aura of nervousness that rivals her own.

“Oh hello,” she answers cheerfully.

“What brings you here?” He asks.

At the question, she glances between the posters in her hand and Tsukishima.

On the boy's end, there is palpable relief in response to her action, as if Yachi has quelled a dubious speculation he has been holding back.

“Oh that’s right, you’re the volleyball club manager. Are you putting those up?”

He points to the posters.

“Oh yes, I’m thinking of spending parts of lunch and after school pinning them. We need as many supporters as possible at our games,” she says brightly.

“That’s great! Can I help you with them after school? I’m waiting around for a friend to finish his student council meeting so I won’t have much to do in the meantime-“

He stops abruptly at the confounded look on Yachi’s face.

“I-I mean, if that’s okay with you. I didn’t mean to interfere if you have help already or if you prefer to do them yourself,” he adds frantically.

She gives a nonchalant wave.

“Oh no, no that’s fine. I appreciate the offer, thank you!”

Over in the corner, Tsukishima is half-heartedly watching the conversation with vague interest. Yachi does not take notice, and when she finally faces him, he is already staring intently out the window.

x

She spends the first half of lunch fastening the posters along the top two corridors. It should suffice until she completes the entire task after school. In the meantime, she holds the leftover stack and stares haphazardly at its content.

_I shouldn’t be checking it. I’ve already started pinning them. But the font is okay? It’s definitely clear and readable._

She does not heed her surroundings, so when she paces along the hallways, she walks straight into someone.

It is Tsukishima.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you!” She flusters.

“Hey, can you come with me for a moment?”

His tone is impassive yet resolute.

“Oh…sure,” she replies hesitantly.

Bemused, she tentatively follows.

Tsukishima does not speak, though the aura he radiates is one of restlessness.

She thinks about taking his hand to bridge the questioning silence, but they are both shrouded in the depths of his pockets.

Yachi and Tsukishima are wary when it comes to public displays of affection - especially on school grounds. For this reason, only a handful of people are aware of their relationship. They do not intentionally conceal it, rather, it is needless to declare such thing for the whole world to see. Tsukishima is more prominent with his advocacy of said concept. He dislikes drawing attention, yet can be relatively smug when people discover his intimate connection with Yachi.

When the silence continues, Yachi decides to break the quietude with restive curiosity.

“Where are we going?”

Tsukishima halts before the storage room.

“I’ve been assigned as temporary class rep today because ours is away sick. I need to collect some folders before lunch ends,” he says.

His tone is still vacant with minor traces of lethargy. But for a fleeting moment, Yachi senses a brazen presence that underlies his voice.

“Oh! So you just need help locating them.”

She is class representative, so a trip to the storage room occurs at least once on a daily basis.

Tsukishima does not answer. He unlocks the door and allows her in first.

And it is only when she is standing there for several long seconds in the semi-darkness does she realise the predicament. When she turns to Tsukishima, he is closing the door and locking it behind him.

“Tsukishima?”

She can still see traces of his features beneath the lights from the vents. His expression is inscrutable, and when he approaches her, she lets out a timid squeak.

“I-Is there a reason why we are locked in here together? You’re not going to abduct and torture me are you?” She scans the room in paranoia.

Tsukishima frowns.

“What kind of person do you think I am?” He says reproachfully.

She raises her hands in resignation.

“I-I trust you so I surrender.”

“Yeah, good,” he says softly.

Then he leans in and kisses her.

Her reaction momentarily stalls. Not out of fear, but astonishment.

Tsukishima, however, is patient. He lightens the contact and allows her ample time to adapt.

The time lag spans about five seconds, until she steps in and responds with insatiable need.

Tsukishima has the uncanny ability to dismantle her fears with just touch alone. And today, the apprehension from weeks of stress, and the anxiety that has taken permanent residence, have all disintegrated into fragments of nothing.

Inquisitiveness compels her actions, and when she parts her mouth, he shadows her every move. Tsukishima is normally the assertive one, but when they are engaged in a passionate round of kissing, he often lets her lead.

So she holds his face and steadily runs a hand through his hair. And in a simultaneous move, she is sliding her tongue into him and tasting the mysterious sweetness of his interior. 

The act gets him pushing heavily against her, until he is picking her up and carrying her to the metal platforms that are stacked against the corner. She is almost levelled with him, and in the moment before their mouths reconnect, she takes his face again and presses her forehead to his.

“I’m not so sure what this is about?” She breathes.

“Does there have to be a reason?” He answers softly, “although…if you’re going to be accompanied by someone after school today, I thought I should give you a memorable send off.”

His expression contorts into a smirk that hovers somewhere between superiority and salaciousness.

At the comment, her face turns a dark shade of scarlet that infiltrates every layer of skin.

Without awaiting her reply, he secures his mouth to hers for the second round. And this time, he takes the lead.

Yachi gives in with one long gratifying sigh. On Tsukishima's end, the sound is enough to escalate the intimacy. He holds her waist steady and coaxes her forwards, until she is straddling him and their mouths are stroking each other’s to a climactic response.

With every movement comes a wave of exhilarating pleasure that ends complacently at her core.

And when she takes the initiative to bite his lower lip, the response she gets is remarkably fervent. He repeats the action on her end, over and over, until her legs are restively brushing against him and her middle is pressing and sliding against his hardness.

Then, he briefly parts from her.

“Do you want an extra memorable send off?”

The question is redundant, yet it is her avid response that gives him the reply he needs. So he reaches beneath her skirt and slides her undergarment off. Meanwhile, she is frantically undoing the belt on his pants and getting her fingers tangled between the button and zipper.

And just like that, the intruding thoughts resurface.

“W-Wait, are we really going to do this? In here? Now?”

Her tone borders unease.

“Why are you questioning? We are both consenting adults aren’t we?”

His smug remark denotes an underlying meaning. He is giving her a choice. Take the brazen risk or leave.

_You weren't joking about a memorable send off were you?_

When she relaxes against him, it is a non-verbal indicator of her answer.

In moments like this, logic is conveniently absent. Emotions and desire occupies her mind. There is no room for pragmatism nor the ubiquitous presence of anxiety that often permeates her conscious. Being this close to the one person she loves is what keeps her muse silenced, even when the trepidation of doing such lewd acts linger ever so imminently.

Tsukishima takes hold of her waist again and shuffles her forward. Then, he leans in and fills her with that incredible amount of impassioned tenderness. His warmth infiltrates like the ferocious heat of a burning fire, and when he presses his lips to hers, the desire escalates with monumental force.

She forgets the amount of time they have done it. The intimacy they share is a representation of the suppressed affection they do not show in public. Or perhaps it is the diminishing rate of contact they have in the past few months? Third year commitments and the ever growing demands of volleyball practice is what keeps them from nurturing their relationship.

Her body is always welcoming of him, regardless of mood or situation. But he is worth every variable circumstance. Despite his dominance, Tsukishima’s lovemaking is replete with gentle components of intensity.

When she is gripping his shoulders with saturating vehemence, he lifts her leg to a higher angle and deepens the joining between them. His initial movements are slow and leisurely, then progresses with invigorating potency.

Amidst the ensuing excitement, he presses a hand to the wall behind and keeps the momentum steady. And when Yachi moves her fingers through his hair, he does the same with hers and reposes his hand beneath the silky strands.

As the pleasure builds, so does her reaction. She is mindful of the volume, so her breathing overcompensates and manifests in short erratic bursts. Tsukishima, however, is inexplicably quiet. He has always been with their acts of intimacy. For what reason, she does not know.

“Ts-Tsuki-“

He lightly grips her jaws and halts her speaking.

“Yeah, you’re going to be using my name when I’m fucking you,” he interrupts firmly, “is that clear?”

She nods in diffident.

“Hmm…? Can’t hear you.”

His tone is filled with overt sarcasm.

“Y-Yes…”

He is staring intently.

“…Kei,” she finishes.

He gives a satisfactory grin, then resumes the action.

This time, Yachi raises her hips and syncs with his movements in perfect tandem. The rising satisfaction returns with greater exhilaration, until she is biting her lips and her fingers are digging into the thickened materials of his blazer.

On Tsukishima’s end, he is already embracing her and keeping them both balanced. His closer proximity sends another bout of intoxicating energy that swells her insides. She can hear his unsteady breathing, and feel the prolific sweat that coats his skin. It gives her the warming sensation of excitement, and the encapsulating feeling of security.

Without anticipation, she takes the audacious move and grips on to him - internally and externally, until her conscious is consumed by desire and her peak is imminent.

Yachi's level of self-control is no longer restrained. The sounds of her heavy breathing, and the sweet moaning is what saturates the heated air with intensifying arousal. Tsukishima leans forward and places a hand over her mouth. It gives her mind that temporary relief from regulating her actions.

In the last few seconds, he takes her beyond euphoria, a perfect world that only exists in the space before liberation. And it is only when she breathes a gratifying sigh of release that he finally joins her in the fleeting moments of ecstasy.

Exhausted yet satisfied, they collapse against each other in respite.

For several minutes, they spend sporadic moments embracing, and kissing until their hearts are content.

“I love you,” he breathes quietly.

She is surprised at the comment, but does not question.

“I love you too,” she replies softly.

Tsukishima rarely expresses his emotions. Even after being together for six months, his defence remains solid. There are elements that concerns his lack of understanding when feelings are involved. Yachi takes the initiative to interpret them, and intuitively, she gets it right most times.

When it comes to intimacy and other matters that pertain specifically to relationships, Tsukishima is incredibly difficult to read. She is yet to comprehend a large portion of what his conscious sees during more personal moments, but the more she gets to know him, the less she knows about him.

The surrealism of their situation does not immediately impinge. As if they are suspended in a frozen-like sphere where time and space have ceased to exist. It is just them, and frankly, Yachi is perfectly content with it.

When the bell signifies the beginning of class, Tsukishima reluctantly detaches from her.

“We should get going then,” she readjusts her clothing.

“Yeah. Just…give me a minute,” he replies tensely.

“Is everything okay?”

She approaches and brushes the front of his pants where he is adjusting his uniform.

“W-Why are you still…” she starts.

Her face re-paints itself a dark shade of red.

He frowns.

“Why are you surprised? I just did it with my girlfriend in the storage room. That thought alone gives me energy for round two.”

“Tsukishima!”

_Why are men always thinking of just one thing?_

x

Yachi spends the rest of the afternoon in a different world. Exactly what Tsukishima had planned - to keep her mind on him.

She does not realise the extent of such ramifications until she is sitting in an important class, or crossing paths with the person who will be helping with the posters after school.

Her mind sits in that euphoric state of elation, and does not relent to the more important aspect of reality.

Attempts to keep focus is futile, and only ten minutes before the last session ends does she finally garner the willpower to divert her attention and keep her mind from that room.

Pleased that she can finally concentrate, she gathers her belongings and turns for the exit at the completion of class.

“Ah, one moment Yachi,” the teacher says, “I need you to bring these folders back to the storage room.”

_Oh no._

* * *

**A/N:** A little birdie told me that TsukiYachi day exists and I am shattered I missed out on it. So I decided to get out of my comfort zone and write a one shot. Needless to say, it took forever. I am absolutely atrocious at writing one shots, but given that my current Haikyuu fic is not solely based on TsukiYachi, I wanted to write one exclusively for them.

Here's to my incredible OTP ! 💞


End file.
